Tank had been in every day to see Tanner . . . and me. And Beauty had been forever by his side. “Styx is one tough motherfucker, I ain’t gonna lie. But he’s a good man.” Beauty paused as if debating whether to say something. Finally, she did. “His old man was an asshole. A real fucking prick, Lita. Styx grew up with that bastard, yet still he’s a good guy.” She smiled at me. “I like to think it was y’all’s mama who made you both so fucking pure.” A lump built in my throat. “That man loves Mae something fierce, and you’ll never find a bitch as sweet as her.” Beauty squeezed my hand as we pulled up to a log cabin. “I know it must be a real fucking head-spin finding out your man’s prez is your brother, but give Styx a chance. Ask Sia—Styx knows how to be a good brother if you let him.”
“Thank you,” I said, quietly.
Movement from the house caught my attention. Mae was on the deck. She waved when she saw me. I waved back, then took a deep breath. Hands trembling, I opened the truck door and got out. My side still hurt from my injury, but I could walk. And I wanted to be here today. I wanted to know what Styx had to show me.
And I wanted to speak to him. To him and Mae.
I wanted to know my brother.
Mae came and met me, threading her arm through mine. You would never know she’d just had a baby. She looked perfect, dressed in a flowing white dress, her black hair cascading down her back . . . beautiful. “Here, let me help you.” Mae aided me up the stairs to the cabin, and I followed her through the door.
The home smelled of cookies and bread. “It smells so nice,” I complimented.
“I baked,” Mae said. “It is not every day we find out Styx has a sister.”
Mae led me into the living room. Styx was in the corner, staring out of the window. He was dressed in jeans, a white shirt and his Hangmen cut. He looked so big, so imposing . . . until he turned and my heart melted seeing him holding baby Charon in his arms. Styx’s hazel eyes met mine, and my frayed nerves returned.
“Please have a seat,” Mae said and pointed to the couch. I sat down. “Tea?” she asked, and poured me a cup from a teapot that was on the coffee table.
“Thank you.” When my tea had been placed before me, Mae went to Styx, who was standing as still as a statue in the corner of the room. Mae took Charon from her husband.
She nodded in the direction of the couch opposite mine. Clenching his jaw, Styx sat down. His gaze stayed on the floor. Mae sat beside him, and he looked right at her. In an instant, I could see what Beauty meant. The way he looked at Mae . . . he adored her. It was plain to see. And she was clearly his strength. Even men as formidable as Styx needed someone to hold them up.
“He’s so beautiful,” I said, referring to Charon, who was sleeping soundly in his mother’s arms.
Mae smiled wide. “He is the biggest blessing of my life.” She looked at Styx. His lip flicked up in the corner. Mae faced me again. “I cannot imagine how confusing this has all been for you, Adelita.” My chest tightened, and I fought back the emotions swirling in my chest. Mae took hold of Styx’s hand. “We had no idea—Styx had no idea—that you even existed.” Mae nodded at Styx. Styx went to the fireplace and took a leather book off the mantle. He paused, looking at me, then brought it over. He sat down next to Mae again. “There are many journals from your mother. But this is the last one . . .” Mae paused, then said, “This is the one pertaining to you . . . and everything that happened.”
My heart started beating so fast It made me breathless. I glanced down at the journal and saw a name engraved on the front. “Lucy Sinclair,” I whispered. I traced her name with my finger, feeling a connection to that name so profoundly it was as though a rope was tied around my heart and was being tugged toward the brown leather journal.
“Your mother’s name—” Mae paused, and took Styx’s hand. “Both your mother’s name.”